


Kryptonite

by Jena Bartley (jenab)



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-18
Updated: 2007-05-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenab/pseuds/Jena%20Bartley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpected encounters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kryptonite

**Author's Note:**

> This story was for the Alias Ficathon on Live Journal. 
> 
> Thank you to Medie for the beta

St. Petersburg, Russia

Sometimes Rachel wished she had more time to explore whenever she was in a new city or country. Most times she barely had time to take in the view, so intent on completing her mission. At least this time she could actually take in the sights of St. Petersburg as she walked along Petrovskiy prospekt, one of the main streets in the city. 

Her meeting was in a small church tucked away on one of the many side streets leading from Petrovskiy prospekt. Inside, the GRU Colonel was waiting for her. She slid into the row next to him, pulling out a prayer book. Without looking at him, she laid the book on the seat, and knelt down, hands folded and head bowed in prayer. The Colonel made a sign of the cross and rose, picking up his own book. 

Rachel waited for fifteen minutes before leaving as well. She slipped the book into her backpack. Inside it was a partial list of deep cover and highly placed mole inside both the U.S government, including the CIA, and top industrial companies. The first down payment for the CIA helping him to defect. Inside the Colonel’s book was instructions on when and where to leave Russia for his new life. 

Back out on the street, she played tourist for a while, keeping an eye out for tails. Nearing the hostel she was staying in as part of her cover, Rachel could see the group she’d been traveling with gathered in front of the entrance. Ruth, the leader and organizer of the group, spotted Rachel as she neared them. She waved at Rachel, motioning her to approach. There was a man standing next to her, his back towards Rachel. 

“Mary, come meet Ted. We just met this morning. He’s also studying Russian History, and is going to Moscow University when the next semester starts up.” 

Rachel smiled, turning to greet Ted. The smile froze as she faced him. 

Julian Sark. A man she hadn’t seen in almost two years. Not since he had kidnapped and tortured her. Rage coiled tight in her belly even as she greeted him. 

“It’s good to meet you, Mary. Ruth was telling me how we are both studying the same thing. Are you just here for the summer or will you be attending university in the fall?” Sark’s American accent was flawless, just as perfect as it had been in Rio. 

Heat flashed through her traitorous body as she remembered that night in his hotel room. As mush as she hated who he was, Rachel couldn’t help recalling just how good the sex had been. 

“No. I’m just here for a few more weeks. Aren’t you a little old to still be in grad school?” Rachel said, unable to hide the ice in her voice. She ignored Ruth’s shocked look, focusing completely on Sark. 

Sark smiled, eyes slowly raking over her body. “I did a five year stint in the Navy on the G.I. bill so I could pay for school.” 

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, feeling how her nipples tightened under that look. How could she still be attracted to him, knowing who he was and what he’d done to her and others? 

Turning her back on Sark, Rachel managed to smile warmly, remembering her cover. “I’m going back to Moscow tonight. I’ve been talking to my professor and he has managed to arrange time for me in the Kremlin Archives for the next couple of days.” 

Ruth looked a little alarmed. “Are you sure you have to go? You really shouldn’t be traveling by yourself at night. We are going back in a couple of more days. Can you wait until then?” 

Rachel shook her head. “No, they won’t budge on the time. I’ll be fine.” It was kind of endearing that Ruth worried so much about her group of students. Never mind Rachel now knew a dozen different ways to kill a person. 

“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to talking with someone else studying the same thing.” Sark said, turning on the charm. “Perhaps we can catch up later if you are attending university in the Fall. 

“Perhaps.” Rachel’s voice was cool, warming only when she turned to Ruth. “I’ve enjoyed touring with you, Ruth. It’s been a fun time. I’ll see you around.” 

She hitched up her backpack further on her shoulder as she walked away. With each step she could feel Sark’s eyes on hers. If she didn’t need to get the list back to APO, she would have stayed and found out what Sark was up to. 

Sark on the loose was never a good thing. 

 

Paris, France

Paris in the summer had fast become one of Rachel’s favorite times to visit the city. The city slowed down in the heat of August with most citizens on holidays in the countryside or beaches. The atmosphere was more relaxed and causal, perfect for unwinding after several hard missions. 

It was one of several places around the world Rachel came to when she was on vacation and wanted to disappear and relax. Her hotel was a small, family run business, tucked away in the heart of Paris. Intimate and friendly, with excellent service and a price that won’t leave her broke.

Today, Rachel stumbled across a small, outdoor café with the most delicious smells emanating from it. The proprietor came out to greet her, an old man with wide, smile and eyes full of life. She was seated at a table in partial shade under the awning, still able to feel the hot summer sun soaking into her. Pulling out a steamy romance novel she proceeded to lose herself in it. 

“Bonjour, Rachel.”

The voice sent a chill went down Rachel’s spine as she looked up from her book. Sark stood in front of her, with the width of the tiny table between them. He was wearing perfectly creased beige pants, a white shirt and dark sunglasses. 

“Sark. What are you doing here?” 

Sark pulled out the other chair, looking relaxed and far too good looking for Rachel’s piece of mind. His knee brushed against hers when he sat down. 

“Would you believe I was just passing by and saw you here?” He was still speaking French and Rachel found herself replying in the same language. 

“No.” This close to him, Rachel could smell his cologne, something spicy that suited him perfectly. She crossed her legs underneath the table, accidentally banging into him. “Why are you really here?”

Sark took off his glasses, his eyes fixed completely on hers. She remembered that look from Rio; just before they kissed in the hallway. 

“Actually, I’m here on business. It was mere coincidence to see you here.” 

“Coincidence? Just like St. Petersburg last month was a coincidence?” 

“Yes.” He smiled, warm and charming, trying to win her over. “Exactly like St. Petersburg. I heard about a GRU Colonel suddenly disappearing just a few days after seeing you there. That was quite a coup for the CIA. What are you doing here?”

Rachel lifted her book, ensuring he couldn’t see the cover. “I’m actually on vacation. But since you’re here, it looks like I’m going to have to find somewhere else to relax.”

She stood up, laying some money on the table and grabbing her shoulder bag. 

Sark rose as well, grabbing her arm. “Don’t go. I can assure you my business will not interfere with your holidays.” 

His hand was warm on her skin, making Rachel aware of how much her body and mind still remembered him. The feel of him slick and heavy between her thighs, the taste of him lingering on her tongue. 

Her breath caught as his thumb moved slowly on her arm. 

“I have missed you, Rachel.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. “I truly regret what happened in Mexico, but it was only business.”

Rachel jerked her arm free from his grasp. “Just business? Is that how you treat all the women you care for? By torturing them?” 

“Really, Rachel. I was hoping we could move beyond that.” Sark moved closer to her. “I can’t forget about that night in Rio. We were so good together.” 

His eyes traveled down her body, taking in the thin, flowing sundress she was wearing. Her nipples grew hard under that gaze, her body’s reaction far too obvious under his relentless gaze. 

“Being a spy suits you well, Rachel. Can you imagine what it could be like between us, with both of us knowing the truth of the other?” 

Rachel moved back a step, when her body wanted nothing than to press against him, and feel his wonderful hands on her again.

“Why would you ever think we could have something between us? It was just a one night stand for me, nothing more. You’re the one who wanted me to stay the night and cuddle.” 

Sark chuckled, eyes flicking to her breasts and back up to her face. He was smiling, full of himself and how he affected her. “If it meant nothing to you, why is your body reacting like that?” 

Before she could reply, he suddenly moved, kissing her hard. Rachel froze, feeling his tongue against the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, and his hands tangled in her hair. She wanted to push him away, should punch him. He tortured her all in the name of business. 

Instead, Rachel sighed, opening her mouth and letting him in. Her hands slid over his waist, gripping his back as he pulled her tight against him. This was so wrong, what she was doing. He was the enemy. Not to be trusted. But she wanted him. Badly. 

She could feel him hard against her belly. She arched into him, making him moan. Then he was pulling back, breathing hard, his hair mussed from her hands. 

He slid his sunglasses on, smirking at her. “You want me. In time, I will win you over.” 

“Never.” 

Sark only smiled and walked away. 

Rachel stood watching him go, her legs week from the kiss and the taste of him lingering on her lips. 

She didn’t want him, couldn’t want him. Not after what he’d done to her. It was just chemistry between them and one night of great sex. She could live without that. But he also fascinated her, from the stories Sydney told her to APO’s file on him. He was a contradiction, a cold, ruthless killer one moment, or the passionate man he’d been in Rio the next. 

She wanted to understand him, to know what made him tick. She wanted him, period. And Rachel couldn’t help wondering what it would be like between them, with most of their secrets no longer hidden.


End file.
